


Honor is for the Holy (we are the corrupt)

by threedices



Series: KHR rarepair Valentine's day mini-event [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Assassination Plot(s), Dying Will Flames (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Emotional Baggage, F/M, Illusions, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Less murder than advertised in this fic, Mentioned Past Possession, Murder, Off-Screen Murder, Seduction, Timeline What Timeline, a minor character is uncharitably implied to be an alcoholic, all around bad childhoods implied, exploiting human weakness to get the job done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 14:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17768528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threedices/pseuds/threedices
Summary: Bianchi needs someone subtle and competent to aid her in a murder, someone who can also get rid of the body.Hibari is only two of those things.So she asks Chrome to get in contact with Mukuro.





	Honor is for the Holy (we are the corrupt)

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [KHR_Rare_Pair_Week_Vday_Mini_Event_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/KHR_Rare_Pair_Week_Vday_Mini_Event_2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Feb 13: Backup Twin | Impossible

Bianchi still kept an ear open to news about her family, even if she had no intention of ever going back.  
(Some thing could not be fixed. Not that easily.)

She wasn’t even sure if she loved her parents.

Still, when she heard rumours, that turned out to not be mere rumours, that someone was planning to kill her father, her blood ran cold.

It needed to be taken care of and no one could know it was her. Not only because it would fall back on her family.

If there was anyone she could ask to help her out to murder someone, it would be him.  
And Hibari.

But she needed a bit more subtlety than Hibari Kyouya usually was capable of.

So Bianchi went to Chrome, to contact Mukuro. 

Bianchi found her in a quiet moment between missions. Chrome still had a room at the Vongola mansion,even if she rarely used it.

Chrome's single eye was wide and unblinking as she opened the door for Bianchi.

“Hello, Chrome.”

"Bianchi-san." Barely any inflection, a curious tilt of the head.

Chrome had learned to guard everything about herself.

Bianchi was more proud than she had any right to be, the smile came completely unbidden to her face.

Chrome had changed, into something strong and sharp and dangerous.

"I need to speak with Mukuro." 

He was not affiliated with anyone, always down to murder a Mafioso, and powerful enough to get it done right and get away with it.

Chrome closed her eye with an agreeable sound. 

Bianchi waited. 

The tension in the air rose gradually. 

Then, Mukuro's touch on her shoulder, his body behind her.  
Bianchi kept herself relaxed, any expression off her face, and forced herself not to try and break his fingers.  
His touch was far gentler than she’d expected.  
She wondered if she’d passed the test, whatever it was.

"What do you want from me, Poison Scorpion Bianchi?"  
He let go and stepped in front of her.

Bianchi couldn't remember closing her eyes, until she opened them again.

Chrome nodded to her and left. Her footsteps made no sound.

Bianchi appreciated the privacy, as relative as it may be between Mukuro and Chrome.

Her whole attention turned to Mukuro.

Her voice detached, her smile deceptively sweet.  
"I need your help to murder someone."

Mukuro laughed at her.  
She didn't like it, but it wasn't unexpected.

"You cannot do it yourself?" he asked, his mirth softening his tone.

Bianchi rolled her eyes. "I need an outsider." 

When he raised an eyebrow but otherwise said nothing, she continued, bluntly. "Hibari isn't subtle enough."

That should convince him.

Winning against other people was Hibari's thing, but riling Hibari up was Mukuro's.

"All right." His voice was low, pleased. "We have a deal." 

Bianchi snorted. "You haven't even heard who I want dead."

"They're Mafia?"

She nodded.

Mukuro's tone went hard, all amusement gone from his face. "Then they deserve it." 

***

They went to stake out a small bar that one of Pesce’s underlings hung out in.

The smell of tobacco, sweat and spilled beer filled the air.

Bianchi tried not to crinkle her nose.  
They were supposed to fit in.  
Just two men who wanted to quietly enjoy a beer and have some harmless conversation.

"A dingy little hole," Mukuro said beside her when they stepped inside, condescension and amusement mingling equally in his tone.

Bianchi shrugged. "Can't be helped."

"We can do better."

“Maybe after this.” She was already looking for the man they had come here to find and pointed him out surreptitiously.

Pecora was a drunkard, but his family had served the boss' family for generations.

He was also a friendly drunk, a bit on the talkative side, not as suspicious of them at all.  
It's easy enough to ply him with drinks and get him to talk.  
About inconsequential things.  
About the boss' preferences in women.

(That's still the easiest way to kill a man. Somehow, they never expected women to be competent killers.)

Bianchi was pleasantly surprised at how Mukuro let her lead the questioning.  
It's true, she knew best what they needed to find out and this was her usual method, but it’s a nice change from her usual partners.

Bianchi laughed raucously over a ribald joke Pecora makes and put that thought away for later perusal.

***

It's almost too easy.  
She hoped it wasn’t a trap and mentioned as much to Mukuro when they walked away from the bar that day.

"You worry too much, my dear, we are just that good." Mukuro makes a dismissive gesture, but he looks pleased with himself. "Though, to be fair, even Tsunayoshi was more paranoid."

Bianchi smirks. "He had good reason to be."

Mukuro threw his head back and laughed. "Of course." He smiles, delighted and catches her eyes. 

Bianchi felt indulgent and smiled back.  
She shoved the thought of his pale throat away for now.

They would go back tomorrow, and the day after, for at least a week.  
This was slow going work that needed a patient hand and delicate touch.  
Patience was a cornerstone of hitman work.  
Bianchi excelled at it.  
Mukuro wasn’t so bad at it himself, she thought.  
Vendicare must have taught him  
Or the labs of the Estraneo.

Bianchi did not feel quite so cheerful anymore.

***

Pesce stayed at a hotel in Palermo, this week, for a business trip that his wife needed nothing to know about. 

He also had a weakness for pretty girls. 

If Mukuro did it right, they would look like something made from Pesce’s dreams and desires.

Bianchi smiled.

Mukuro had only gotten better with the years.

***

He let her watch, while he shaped his body into something new.  
It started looking out a little bit like Chrome, like a template, but then shifted.  
His face flickered and changed, the colours and shapes of him.

He laughed, when he caught her expression, and it was a sweet sound.

Like Mukuro was part killer and the part performance artist.

The comparison shouldn’t make Bianchi smile.

She looks closer at the end result.  
His Flames nudging her eyes to flit over his form, to find it pleasing, but to forget the details afterwards.

It's a work of art.

"Now it's your turn," he says and his smile is gleeful, with something dark beneath.

If she was anyone else, and she hadn't hired him for this, that might frighten her.  
But Bianchi has not forgotten why she was doing this.  
Pesce wanted her father dead, so she wanted Pesce dead.  
Blood loyalty was so hard to get rid of.

"Let's get this done."

He smirks. "Willing to trust me so easily?"

There was something in his tone, but his face betrayed nothing but his amusement.

"In this, at the very least." She surprised them both when she said that.

He blinked at her, his smile suddenly gone.  
After an awkward silence, he focused on calling his Flames and twisting them around her.

Bianchi was silent as well, more surprised that she meant it, than that she said it.

But in this case, killing a Mafioso, she trusts him implicitly to be on her side.

His Flames drifted over her skin, foreign but not malicious.  
Almost playful.

It was a strange feeling, to be cradled in his Illusions, but not unwelcome.  
Like coming home.

It made her mind flicker back to that time years ago, when he and his little band of misfits first came to Japan.  
How he had managed to possesses her.

Maybe this was just the natural conclusion.

Bianchi blinked and tried to leave the thought behind.  
It’s harder to shake it off than she’d like.  
And harder still, to know if it’s even her own thought to begin with.

When she looks back at him, his face is patient, settled.  
He smiles as her attention returns to him.

"Ready?"

Bianchi was less and less sure each second, but she steeled her spine.  
"Yes."

***

The Intel they got from Pecora was good.  
His boss came down to the hotel bar and threw them appreciative glances.

Bianchi smiled and Mukuro played a good approximation of shy.

All part of the plan.

"You go up with him, I’ll follow later," Mukuro had said.

He hadn't given her details what he would do, so Bianchi was a bit surprised when he turned the act into something wild and shameless.

After the lap dance Mukuro pretended to be too out of it to continue.

"It's a shame," Pesce said when they went upstairs together, "two of you would have been an experience."

Bianchi looked up at him through her lashes.. "Doesn't mean it can't be a great evening."

Pesce laughed, putting an arm around her small shoulders and pulled her closer. "That's true

Bianchi smiled through the scent of alcohol on his breath.  
She pretended to get them a drink from his mini bar and convinced Pesce to go ahead to the bedroom.

Mukuro didn't make her wait long.

As soon as the boss had loosened his cravat and stepped into the bedroom, Mukuro was there.

"I'll take care of this." Mukuro's eyes were serious, his face his own again.

He turned towards the bedroom.  
"I went to the bathroom. Then I came straight up here. No one will notice."

He said it with the certainty of someone who had the ability to make no one notice.  
Bianchi believed him.

"Now," he said, "do you want to watch?" Gloves materialised on his hands.

His eyes were intense and Bianchi found she couldn't look away.

"No. I trust you." She felt a bit dizzy and breathless, but it was true.  
(How come it was always true?)

Mukuro chuckled, brushing a gloved knuckle over her cheek. "Who would have thought..." 

Then he turned to the bedroom doors, not looking back.

"Don't wait for me. Chrome will take you out." He sounded a bit absent-minded, as if he was already considering his methods, while he tugged his gloves into form.

She nodded, even though he couldn't see it. She had a feeling he knew anyway.

Bianchi stepped out, just when the bedroom door clicked shut behind him, with a quiet, damning sound.

Chrome was waiting for her, completely silent and still.

"No one will see you." Chrome's voice was quiet, her smile soft.

In the room behind them, someone was getting murdered, but her father was safe.

Bianchi couldn’t find it in her to regret what she’d done. (Or with whom.)  
She smiled back at Chrome.  
"Let's go."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic fought me and didn't want to come together. I rewrote bits of it twice. So, sorry if it's a bit choppy in style, but I am at least pleased enough with the flow. More or less.  
> Also, this is the first Bianchi/Mukuro fic on ao3 it seems??
> 
> Chrome is implied to be the back up twin, just so you know.


End file.
